RIP Neil Armstrong
My memories of the Apollo missions are hazy shadows of conversations of my parents and static-filled pictures on a black-and-white tube TV. One stands out though.
I was very young. We were walking through a Sears and Roebuck. All the TVs were tuned into a moon landing–not sure if it was THE landing or not, but it must have been something important because all of the shoppers were stopping in their tracks to watch and see what was going on. Dad and Bo were there. If it was the 1969 landing, I was three years old.
Then several years later, I remember all the really cool photos of galaxies and nebulae and exploding stars that our school library had–they were tucked away in a file cabinet– NASA made them available to educators, unfortunately, the educators rarely used them. I had access to them because I was a library aide. I would talk the librarian into letting me have the duplicates, and I would bring them home and plaster the walls of my bedroom with NASA photos. I would stare up at the universe and dream about the future.
Back then, I was going to be an astrophysicist.